Previously…

I passed the San on the way back to my room and heard a sound coming from inside. Hesitating for a moment, I did something quite mad, I opened the door and peeped my head around.

To the left was matron’s office and it was dark in there. Ahead was a sort of hospital ward with four beds. Three of them were empty, but the fourth, by the window, was occupied. There was a small light by the side of the bed and the girl was lying on her side, away from me and she was sobbing her heart out, her body heaving.

My eyes pricked with tears and without realising what I was doing or the consequences, I went in, shut the door behind me and walked over to the bed.

There was a chair by the bed so I sat on it. It creaked slightly as I sat down and the girl stiffened and turned over.

‘Matr–oh, gosh, who are you––?’

And now the story continues…

‘Erm, Lu—Lucinda, are you Alicia?’

‘Mmm.’

I looked at her tear-stained face and my heart went out to her.

‘Why are you crying, are you hurting?’

She looked at me and sniffed a bit. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy. Normally, I would have said she was quite pretty, with her long dark hair and a pleasant face.

‘No–well yes, a bit. My head is throbbing where I bumped it. I’m lucky really, I could have been killed.’

I moved on the wooden slatted seat, it wasn’t very comfortable and my thin night clothes were no protection, hence the slightly numb bum.

‘You haven’t said why you are crying.’

She sat up in bed, wincing slightly. ‘You’ll get told off if you are caught.’

‘I know, I’ll just say that I have a headache and wanted something for it. Now out with it, spill the beans, why have you been blubbing?’

She giggled.

‘Spill the beans? You sound like a cowboy–well cowgirl really.’

She stopped for a moment and then looked at me.

‘My Auntie came to visit me–she has virtually looked after me for a while now–but my father didn’t even bother after the accident.’

‘That’s rotten.’

‘Yes, he’s always too busy for me. He was different when Mummy was around, even though things were difficult, at least he tried, but now’s she’s gone, he’s cold and distant and doesn’t want to know me.’

‘Because of the divorce?’

‘You know about that, do you?’

‘Erm, everyone does, it’s in the papers.’

She looked so sad lying there in her pink cotton nightie. About my age, I suppose twelve or thirteen. Mind you, I looked younger than that, so she might think that I was still a kid. The look on her face made me want to cry–or I would if I wasn’t a tough boy and master criminal–who was I kidding?

My heart went out to her; divorce can be hell for kids. My mum and dad nearly divorced several times and I remembered the rows so clearly. They were either about money or the fact that dad’s occupation wasn’t exactly legitimate.

We had been having this conversation in whispers and I was getting a crick in my neck, looking behind me for any signs of a ten-foot tall matron with a huge syringe in her hand.

‘Why do you keep looking behind you?’ asked Alicia.

‘I don’t want any surprise visitors,’ I said.

‘Like you?’

I giggled at that.

‘Don’t worry,’ continued Alicia, ‘Matron sleeps like a log and won’t come and see me again tonight as I am not exactly on the danger list. I have this bell button thingy in case I need her though. I was going to try it and time how long she took to get up and come and see me, but I’m in enough trouble as it is. The Mole is coming to see me tomorrow morning––’

‘–The Mole? Oh the headmistress.’

‘Exactly.’

‘So, why did you do something daft like throwing yourself off a roof?’

‘I wasn’t throwing myself off. I bet that’s what all the girls are saying. Hyacinth Trubshawe probably told everybody that. She hates me because I copied her essay on Henry the Eighth for history and when Miss Burnett saw it, she got the blame for cheating and not me. I can look quite angelic and innocent when I want to.’

She suddenly let her face go slack and then did something to it to make her look more angelic than Joan of Arc.

‘Blimey,’ I said, ‘that’s a neat trick.’

‘Yes, well, I hate Hyacinth, she’s a sneak and told on me when I had a ciggie behind the bike sheds and coughed my lungs up. You have to watch her; she’d sell her soul for a house point.’

We looked at each other and sort of saw the rebel in each other’s eyes.

‘So why did you do it?’

Her face looked sad again.

‘I…I just wanted to go away and hide. Everyone–except Hyacinth and her two cronies, Beatrice and Roberta–have been nice and supportive; being kind to me and everything, but I don’t want kindness, I just want all the awful things to go away so that I can get on with things. I feel sometimes smothered by it all, do you know what I mean?’

‘Yes, I do. You don’t want to stick out like a sore thumb.’

‘Exactly.’

‘They would have gone out to get you though and then you would have had more attention.’

‘I know that now, but I always do silly, impulsive things. They always seem to be a good idea at the time.’

‘A bit like me really,’ I said smiling.

‘I don’t even know your name,’ said Alicia looking at me rather intently.

‘Br…erm Lucinda.’

‘Lucinda, that’s a nice name. What form are you in, you’re new aren’t you?’

‘Never mind that–look I have to go now as I might get caught.’

She looked disappointed that I would be going.

‘Oh, all right, look…’

There was a noise from outside in the corridor: it sounded like steps coming nearer.

‘Oh gosh, Lucinda, get under the bed, quick!’

I dived under the bed and moved over towards the wall, hunching up so I didn’t look big. The quilt covered the side of the bed so with luck, I was out of sight. Suddenly, my bag was pushed under the bed after me. I had forgotten that!

Alicia started making like a snoring sound that reminded me somehow of a piglet. I nearly giggled–nerves probably.

The door opened slightly squeakily. Didn’t anyone oil hinges around here?

There were steps coming across the room towards us and my heart felt like it was doing the twist as I tried to breathe quietly and not make a noise.

There was a slight cough.

‘Alicia, I know that you are awake. Stop that ridiculous wheezing.’

There was movement in the bed above and the mattress squashed me down a bit as Alicia sat up.

‘Sorry, Matron.’

‘I heard a sound of talking while I went to the toilet.’

‘Sorry, Matron.’

‘Don’t “sorry, Matron” me you young tyke. Who were you talking to?’

‘No one–myself, me, I—I do that sometimes.’

‘Hmm, don’t put that angel face on. I have seen it all. I have been matron here for twenty years, I’ve seen it all and know all the tricks. If I find out that one of your chums has been visiting, young lady, I’ll have your–and her–guts for garters. Do I make myself clear?’

‘Yes, Matron, but none of my friends has been here, honest injun.’

I could hear the sigh.

‘In my day, we didn’t have television–I can’t see why you like Bonanza so much.’

‘Oh Matron, how did you know?’

‘I have my nose to the ground. Not much gets by me.’

‘Don’t you just love Little Joe?’

‘No I don’t. Now how are you feeling?’

‘Just a bit of a headache.’

‘Well if you must go bouncing off roofs what do you expect. Would you like an aspirin?’

‘Please.’

‘All right, won’t be a mo.’ There was the sound of more footsteps going away, splashing water in a glass and then the steps returned.

‘Here you are.’

Silence and then the sound of gulping.

‘Thanks Matron, did Daddy ring up about me?’

‘No, but your Aunt did. She will come and see you tomorrow.’

‘Okay, thanks.’

‘Right; you get down and go to sleep now. If you need me, give me a buzz and no more talking, even if it is only to yourself.’

‘Okay, Matron.’

Alicia settled down and bumped into me as the bed springs pressed down on me again.

‘Look, Alicia, I know that you’ve had a rotten deal but running off like that doesn’t help. If you need a chat and a shoulder to cry on, come and see me and don’t bottle things up, it’ll tear you apart.’

‘All right, Matron–and thanks.’

‘Goodnight, dear.’

‘’Night.’

‘By the way, I preferred Hoss; now get some sleep.’

‘Yes, Matron,’ giggled Alicia, sounding a bit more cheerful.

There was the sound of footsteps retreating and then the door closed quietly. A few moments later I could hear in the distance another door closing with a squeak.

‘You can come out now,’ Alicia whispered.

I squeezed myself out and sat down on the chair again. I would have to wait a while before going back, just in case.

Alicia sat up again. ‘Phew! That was close,’ she said.

‘Yes, I don’t know what I’d have said if she’d caught me.’

Alicia looked at me rather strangely.

‘Well before you go, you had better tell me exactly who you are and why you have a load of goodies in your bag.’

~ §~

I gazed at her feeling like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, as it rushed forwards at a hundred miles an hour.

‘Erm.’

‘Don’t erm me, Lucinda, or is that not your real name?’

‘What d’you mean?’

‘Look, I can tell a fib a mile off. I’m quite good at it you know. All right whose form are you in?’

I wriggled on my seat. ‘Erm… Miss Packworthy’

‘Wrong, Miss Packworthy is head of the Second Year and isn’t a form mistress. So who are you really?’

I looked at her. She seemed nice and I didn’t think that she would tell on me. Dad said never tell anyone what you were doing because they would grass on you, but I had been alone for what seemed like a year rather than a mere few days. I had to tell someone. I needed–I needed a friend.

I glanced up at her. She seemed to be a nice girl a bit like me–not a girl, I was a boy–but in personality I mean.

I could almost see dad in my mind’s eye telling me to keep my mouth shut, but I wasn’t my dad or my mum, I was me, scared, yes I was scared, lonely, friendless and without anyone to talk to.

I stopped thinking and began talking after making sure that there weren’t any rampaging matrons prowling around in the corridor.

I sat back down on the chair. ‘Look, Alicia, if I tell you about me, will you promise not to tell anyone?’

‘Natch, cross my heart and all that rubbish.’

Her face had lost that red look and her eyes were less puffy. She appeared to be a really nice girl, one with whom I could be friendly.

‘All right, well don’t scream, but–but, I’m not a g—g—girl.’

‘Not a girl–? Don’t be daft. Oh, you mean you’re a woman? Well, I suppose you are but a very young one like little old me!’

‘You don’t understand, I’m a–a boy––’

Her face went white. ‘W—what–? But you can’t be. You are joking aren’t you? I might be young, but I’m not thick. I know a girl when I see one, I should know, I’ve been one for twelve years, two months, three weeks and two–no three days, not that I’m counting–’

Her voice trailed off as I could feel the tears running down my cheeks.

‘L—let me tell you about w—what happened.’ I shivered.

‘Okay, but get into that bed next to me so you don’t catch cold. I want hear this!’

I got into bed and then in a hushed voice told her all about me. I could have held back and lied but I didn’t. I needed to talk to someone. All that had happened to me and the guilt about my mum had come to the surface.

I told her about my dad and the fact that he was a petty criminal who had died. I told her about my life–how I had to help feed and clothe my mother and me by using illegal means. My mum’s drinking and the deadly cocktail of drinks and drugs that had finally killed her. The thieving and how I had found the school and my daft plan to live in secret until things died down, ‘borrowing’ clothes and food and also the false record of me in the squeaky cabinet in the office.

I even told her about the strange feelings I had now that I was dressed as a girl and how guilty I felt about that as I was really a boy, not strong and masculine looking, but still a boy. I even told her some things–my innermost thoughts that I hadn’t even thought about consciously.

I took a deep breath and then told her how I liked being dressed and seen as a girl. I loved the feel of the clothes and the sense that it was the real me inside–a girl and not a boy who was now coming out and had been inside me all my life probably. I realised now–as if a light had lit up in my head–that I had felt different all my life. A square peg in a round hole, as mum would say if she could see me now, and I didn’t know why that had been the case until the last few short days.

I recalled standing in Miss Molestrangler’s office and by the light of her fire, saw the real me, I knew then that I wasn’t well. I must have been sick to feel the way I did. What healthy boy would ever want to be a girl?

A – boy – can – not – be – a – girl!

By this time, I was crying my eyes out and I dared not look at Alicia. I just stared at the ceiling, trying to blink back the tears and not be so–so girlie.

I expected her to laugh at me, to shout out for matron or press that silly little buzzer thing. I would be laughed out of the place. They would send the police. Then I would be put in an awful, soulless children’s home. I would rather die than that. Why, oh why did I tell her?

Then I heard the pad of feet and suddenly she was there in the bed with me and hugging me tightly. She was crying too. I jumped as a cold foot touched my bare leg.

‘Oh, you silly goose. It doesn’t matter what anyone says you are, if you’re a girl then you’re a girl. You aren’t the only one who feels like you. We have another girl here who was born a boy. I only know because I overheard Matron and The Mole talking about her once. I don’t know her name, I didn’t get that bit because a mistress came around the corner and I had to skedaddle. For ages I looked out for some big lumbering boy with acne and an attitude, but I couldn’t see anybody here remotely looking like a boy–and that includes you. Then I read in papers about this man who said he was a woman and went somewhere for an operation and then–hey presto, he’s a she!’

We stayed like that for a while and it was nice, even though her feet were cold for a bit. We talked about our lives and she told me something about her background.

‘Mummy and Daddy never really loved each other. He got her in the club and was sort of forced to marry her. Heaven forbid a “B” in the family–as grandma said while I was eavesdropping on a conversation that I shouldn’t have, last year. I think having me sort of brought them together for a while and then the rows began and it all went horrible. I had Auntie of course and she looked after me much more than my real parents. She lost Uncle Albert before I was born and hadn’t any kids of her own. I think that she treats me as almost her daughter even now. Anyway, when I was six, I was shifted off to the prep school here–’

‘Six–?’ I exclaimed.

She looked at me and smiled.

‘It was better than being in a frosty old house–with parents glaring at each other across the breakfast table and Auntie trying to be a referee when she was around. It’s okay here though and I feel more at home in this place than I ever do at home. Mind you, Mummy was never around much; she’s a bit of a jetsetter always off to New York, Cannes, you know the sort of thing and Daddy does “something in the city,” so he wasn’t always there, either.’

Looking at her and the way she had spoken, I thought that it all sounded a bit false to me. She missed her mother and was really upset that her father couldn’t be bothered to come and see her, even after the accident; thank heavens for the aunt who sounded like a real sweetie.

‘That’s enough about me, Lucinda–or do you prefer Brian when we’re alone?’

‘Lucinda,’ I said quietly and without thinking. Up until a short time ago, I was protesting to myself that I was all boy, but who was I kidding, I had never been a proper boy in the real sense, no wonder I was a crazy mixed up kid!

‘I can’t believe that you are a sort of Raffles here in our school.’

‘Raffles?’

‘Yes, he was a cool master criminal who used to go around with his friend Bunny and rob from the well off while pretending to be a goodie-two-shoes.’

‘I’m not that great at it. Like my dad, I think I’m not very good and anyway look where it landed him.’

‘What about your mummy, you haven’t said much about her?’

I stared at the ceiling for a moment.

‘S…she couldn’t cope with my father being in and out of the nick all the time and then he died doing the first honest job that he had ever had. She blamed herself for making him go straight–silly I know, but she felt that if he was still a tea-leaf, he would have been alive today.’

‘Tea-leaf?’

‘Cockney rhyming slang for thief.’

‘Oh.’

‘At first the pills worked and then she asked for more and more tranqs but the doctor said no. She then started drinking–a lot. She always liked a tipple, but she needed more and more to keep calm and sleep at night. She lost her job and I had to look after both of us. I was too young to work and anyway I was always trying to stay one step ahead of Constable Roberts and Percy Pointer, the truancy officer. So I—I had to steal to keep us going.’

‘Why didn’t you tell the authorities?’

‘And get taken into care while mum got put away? I had already lost my dad and I wasn’t about to lose my mum and go into a home. I know about those places–not nice. Anyway, the last night I went out and robbed a pawnbrokers.’

‘Gosh!’

‘Yea, gosh and a few other words too. I got some decent things and passed them to a fence.’

‘Fence–? Oh I know, a bit like Fagin?’

‘That’s it; with the money I got some drink for mum and I was going to get some food too and pay the back rent and then… then… I found her in the morning, she was dead and I did it!’

I began crying again and received another hug as my body shook with grief. I had already told her about what had happened after I arrived at the school so she now knew the full story. Whether she would tell on me I didn’t know. Somehow it was a relief to tell someone and I just felt that Alicia and I were alike in some ways, through the problems and grief that we had both had of late.

After a while, I was all cried out and felt much calmer and at peace for it. The bell on the clock tower chimed two o’clock and I realised that I should be getting back to my own bed. For all I knew the matron might be an insomniac and what would she say about finding me here?

‘I have to go,’ I said.

‘I suppose so,’ Alicia said regretfully.

‘How long are you in here for?’

‘Another night, I think. I believe it’s more to keep an eye on me rather than my sore head though.’

‘I’ll come back tomorrow, if you like,’ I said hopefully. I had found a friend and I hoped to keep her.

‘That would be brill!’ she said, her face lighting up. ‘But don’t get caught, will you?’

‘I’ll try not to.’

She looked at me and was going to say something but hesitated.

‘What?’ I asked.

‘Have you seen the local paper?’

‘No.’

‘Matron let me read her copy earlier as I was bored out of my skin. There’s something in it about you–as Brian, of course.’

‘Where is it?’ I asked.

‘On my bedside cabinet.’

I sat up and looked over. Getting up, I slipped on my dressing gown and fluffy slippers and then across to the cabinet and picked up the folded paper. I could just read it by the dim night lighting of the room and my eyes were drawn by the article on the bottom right hand side of the page.

I looked up–heart attack–? And continued reading the article.

It is believed that Brian rang the emergency services on the morning following Sharon’s untimely death. Brian was last spotted in the Recreation Ground by Mr Percival Pointer, the local truancy officer.
‘He looked a bit upset and I tried to comfort him,’ said Mr Pointer, ‘but he wouldn’t stop and just ran off.’

‘Flaming liar,’ I hissed loudly and carried on reading.

There was a picture of me taken at the zoo about a year before. Even I could see how much of a girl I looked even though I was wearing my boy’s school uniform. I remember one of the bullies at school always used to call me a big girl’s blouse, looking at what I was wearing now, he wasn’t far from the truth.

If you see this boy, please contact Constable Roberts on 45252 or the Social Services Department on 452201.

Sharon Tranter’s funeral service will be held at St Mark’s Church at 11.00am on Wednesday.

Wednesday, that was tomorrow!

‘Hmm,’ I thought, an idea popping into my head suddenly.

‘Are you all right, Lucinda?’

I had almost forgotten where I was and I jumped slightly at Alicia’s whispered call.

I went back over to the bed.

‘I—I’m all right,’ I said.

‘You don’t look it.’

‘N—no I’ll be fine. Look I had better go. I’ll try and come back tomorrow night. If I don’t though I’m up in the rooms above the dormitories, fourth door on the right. Knock three times and then I’ll know it’s you; but for goodness sake keep schtum about me.’

‘Okay, and you be careful.’

She got out of the bed we had been sharing, straightened the bed and then turned to me.

‘See you tomorrow night, if not I’ll come and find you when I’m out of the san and back in circulation. Don’t get caught, will you?’

‘I’ll try not to. I hope you feel better soon.’

‘My headache’s gone away now, so the pills have worked.’

We stood there for a moment and then hugged each other. I was feeling all teary again and I could see that Alicia was in the same state. Why do girls cry so much? I must be a girl–I turn on the waterworks at the drop of a hat!

Alicia got back into bed and I picked up my bag of goodies, gave her quick wave and a whispered, ‘goodbye,’ and then after making sure that the coast was clear, I was off down the corridor and safely back to my room.

~ §~

I was really tired when I got back into bed. Too many late nights and not enough shuteye. I immediately went to sleep and didn’t wake up until 8.30 in the morning.

It was quiet downstairs so I guessed the girls had either gone to breakfast, assembly or their first lessons. Thinking about it, I recalled that it was assembly at about 8.30 then followed by the first lessons, so things would be fairly quiet for a while.

I wondered how Alicia was and whether I would be able get to see her tonight. It was nice to have found a friend amongst “the enemy.”

But were they the enemy? The few people that I had spoken to had all been nice to me, the two mistresses and two girls treated me better than almost everyone at my old school. I ate my breakfast of cakes, biscuits, a sausage roll and piece of pork pie, washed down by some milk that would have been nicer colder, but as I hadn’t got a refrigerator, I shouldn’t complain.

I thought of my Mum’s body waiting to be buried in a box. I believed that her spirit wasn’t there anymore but was with Dad up in heaven looking down at me and not frowning too much that her little boy was slightly different now.

I couldn’t believe that she died of a heart attack, she was quite young. Maybe it was the drink and the drugs that made her heart weak.

Once again as I had many times since I found her lying on her bed on that terrible morning, my eyes pricked with salty tears as I remembered her face, once so full of life and now so still and lifeless. Then the thought that I had fleetingly had when I read that newspaper, bubbled to the surface once again.

I wanted to say goodbye to mum.

Could I do it? Should I do it and could I get away with it?

A plan hatched in my mind and mad though it was. I was going to go through with it.

I made my way down the corridors and had a quick wash and when I returned, I changed into a smart blouse and skirt, “borrowed” from one of the girls. After brushing my hair, I put on some shiny black shoes and inspected myself. I looked fine as far as I could see. But it was cold outside so I needed a cardigan and coat. After ensuring that the coast was clear, I slipped downstairs and into one of the dorms.

Going to a wardrobe, I searched for a suitable coat. On the third attempt, I found a grey mac that fitted and tied at the waist with a belt. It was a school mac and luckily it had no badges on it–I didn’t want to be seen as a schoolgirl from St Helen’s, but having seen lots of girls wearing these macs, I knew I wouldn’t stand out. I also found a red beret which looked nice and made me seem even more feminine so I put that on too.

All in all I looked the part. The clock struck nine thirty and there was a stampede of feet for a few minutes followed by a silence.

It was time to go.

I was in luck. This was the kind of school where there weren’t any mistresses or prefects on the prowl. Glancing out of the window I could see there were a few workmen outside doing things in the gardens and I could also see that there were already some girls playing hockey in the distance.

Inside was another matter–all seemed quiet.

I wasn’t my father’s child for nothing. Dear old dad always said, always make a plan of escape and make sure that you case the joint (his words) before doing anything stupid like being caught down an alley with nowhere to go.

Well in my wanderings, I had already found my exit route and I had noted it without really thinking; aren’t I clever?

I avoided obvious hot spots like the office and kitchens and made my way out via a slightly different route. This was where the map of the school and good sense of direction became invaluable as I could see where I could go to get out, hopefully without being seen.

I did have to duck into doorways a few times and check my progress when a few people were nearby, but I wasn’t my father’s son–or should that be daughter now?–for nothing. I knew how to creep about and remain unnoticed so I used that skill as well as I could.

There was a side exit which was a fire door at the end of a corridor not far from the kitchens, but far enough away, hopefully, to avoid being spotted. I had spied it on my nocturnal wonderings and had noted it as a possible escape route if and when necessary.

Fire doors are never locked from the inside and that was handy for someone who wanted to get out without being noticed. Getting back in might be a problem, but I would worry about that when the time came –I might be a master or even a mistress criminal, but I couldn’t plan everything.

I slipped out of the school as quietly as a mouse. Outside, there was a path with a hedge along both sides which effectively hid me from view. This led to the side of the school grounds and an entrance that must have been used as a sort of tradesmen’s entrance for the kitchen.

I made a sort of crouched run for it and made it to the gate in what was probably record time. I reached the gate and hung on for dear life, my breath coming in gasps. I couldn’t believe my luck that I had managed to avoid being seen. Mind you, I was out of shape and could do with more exercise. Maybe I could join the gels playing hockey or lacrosse?

I giggled at that thought and then carefully glanced around. It was all clear. It was the work of moments to slide the bolt back and let myself out through the gate. I did wonder why there was such a lack of security here. At my old school, we never knew whether we were being locked in to protect us or locked in to keep the surrounding area safe from some of the nutters who went there.

I slipped out and closed the gate quietly behind me.

It was a longish walk to the cemetery–about 2 miles. I kept a careful look out for anyone who remotely looked like a figure of authority. I was in luck because it appeared to be some sort of teacher training day for the local state schools because there were quite a few kids about. No Percy Pointer around to try and nab me–what luck!

Posh schools probably didn’t need teacher training days so that was maybe why the gels were still beavering away at their lessons. I knew I had to try to get back into St Helen’s without being seen later but I would worry about that when I had to–it was strange, I was missing the old place already!

I reached the High Street which was busy with people shopping. As I say, there were a lot of kids about and a few that I even recognised, but I managed to look the other way when they passed, just in case. I could just imagine what Joey Stevens would do to me if he recognised me as Brian in a skirt. Joey was one of the worst ones at school. He had a little gang that seemed to get away with murder. He was big for his age and had more muscles on his little finger that I had in my entire body. His gang of four terrorised anyone not strong enough to look after themselves and somehow they managed to stay on the right side of authority by not being caught kicking some helpless kid like me or flushing our heads down the toilet – not nice that, but at least you got your hair washed.

Luckily there was no Joey about–he was probably pulling the wings off a bird or something.

I marvelled at the fact that no one pulled me up and said something like “What the hell is a boy wearing girls clothes for?” Despite the evidence of my own eyes, I was still terrified of being found out. The fact that I wasn’t clocked made me feel strangely happy. As a boy I wasn’t much of a specimen but as a girl, to tell the truth, I think I looked the part. Anyway, Dad always said, look as if you belong and don’t draw attention to yourself, and that was exactly what I was doing.

I had a few coins jingling in my pocket and with a sense of bravado, I went into the bakers and bought a sticky bun. I was bit peckish and I had no idea when I would have time for something to eat later.

‘That’ll be tuppence please, dear.’

I handed her one penny and two halfpennies.

‘Thank you,’ I said, smiling.

I ate the bun as I walked along. It was still fresh and slightly warm. No butter, but you can’t have everything.

Soon I was way from the bustling High Street and I made my way up the hill to the church. I knew the place well as this was the churchyard where my dad was buried. Now mum would join him. At least they would be together again.

It was a fine but slightly cool day–the promise of winter just around the corner. The leaves in the churchyard were already dropping from the trees and making scrunching noises beneath the shiny black shoes I was wearing. The slight breeze felt strange on my bare legs and I wondered what it would be like wearing a dress when the weather really turned cold. My hair was getting in my eyes, despite the beret and I wondered if I dared try to cut my fringe.

It was ten thirty and apart from several cars in the church car park, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. I was a bit early obviously, so I walked along the well-trodden path to where my father lay, gradually going slower and slower, not really wanting to go where I knew I had to. I reached my dads final resting place and next to his grave was an open one and I shivered realising that shortly my mum would be in there–it looked so deep...

I nearly turned and ran away. I didn’t want to be here and I didn’t want to see her coffin.

But I had to stay. I couldn’t not see her off. I might be the only mourner there. I couldn’t stand the thought of that. It was my duty to be with her one last time.

I heard the sound of a car engine and turned around. My heart flipped as, through the trees, I could see a hearse slowly go up the drive to the church. Inside, behind glass, was a coffin and my heart lurched. Mum had arrived.

Several other cars followed the hearse and then I noticed that there were quite a few people milling about outside the church, most of them in black. It looked like there was quite a turnout after all.

People started going in the church and I sort of reluctantly joined in on at the end. I couldn’t look at the hearse, it was too painful.

I was quite surprised to see that the church was half-full already. I found a pew near the back and others sat next to me and a few other people then drifted in before the proceedings commenced.

Everyone looked sad. I sort of recognised a few of mum’s fellow workers from the shop where she had worked for a while. There were several neighbours too. There were no relatives though, that I knew of anyway, as far as I knew, we had none that were now alive.

That made me shiver involuntarily–I was the only one left now.

There was soft organ music filling the air with a mournful tune. The church seemed colder inside than it had been outside. The high arched roof soared above me as I wondered in passing why it was so high in the first place.

‘Are you all right dear?’ the old lady sitting next to me asked. Suddenly I realised she lived down our road.

‘Yes,’ I said shortly.

‘Did you know Sharon?’ she asked.

I didn’t really want to talk but it would have been rude to say nothing.

‘Erm, not really, I am a friend of Brian.’

‘Well it’s nice that you’ve come to pay your respects. Sharon was well liked in the area, despite her problems after she lost her husband and Brian’s a sweet boy. I hope that they find him before he comes to any harm.’

‘Yes,’ I said, not knowing what else to say.

A few seconds later, we all stood and the pallbearers in sober black suits carried Mum’s coffin in–I couldn’t look and just studied the floor instead.

I nearly lost it then and gulped back my tears with a great deal of difficulty. I closed my eyes and then I didn’t have to see–her. But she was there, in my mind’s eye, still alive and smiling, as I remembered her before things went terribly wrong.

Somehow, I found myself holding the old lady’s hand and I looked up at her. She too had tears in her eyes. If I was a boy, even here, I would have been ashamed to show my true feelings, but as a girl, it was right and natural. So I cried on the old lady’s shoulder as the service continued and finally ended.

Mum’s coffin was taken out the way it came and we all followed after it. I wasn’t the only one crying by any means and I wondered why that was so. Nobody here knew my mum as I did and yet here were genuine tears of sorrow all around me.

Then I saw them.

John and Paul.

The only real friends that I had at school. They were wearing the school uniform and they too looked upset.

John’s eyes found mine and I nearly wet my knickers there and then.

He looked away with no recognition and I breathed a sigh of relief.

‘Are you all right, lovie?’ asked the kind old lady who I realised had been holding my hand.

‘Yes, thank you,’ I said smiling sadly.

The coffin up ahead was being taken to its final resting place next to Dad. The vicar was with the coffin and many were following him.

‘Look dear, you don’t want to see the burial, it isn’t nice and you have been upset enough today. You have paid your respects and had a good cry. Why don’t you go off home now?’

I looked at her grey-haired and lined face, full of concern, realising she was right. I had said goodbye to mum and if I stayed I might do something stupid like collapse or something.

‘Okay,’ I said quietly and on an impulse I kissed her on the cheek, ‘thank to for being so kind.’

‘That’s all right, love. Now off you go.’

I let go of her hand, smiled and then went down the path that led to the road. I paused at the gate for a moment and saw a glimpse of the coffin and all the people processing to the grave.

‘Bye, mum,’ I said quietly, my voice catching in my throat and then sadly turned for home.

~ §~

It didn’t seem to take very long to reach the now familiar school gates. I hadn’t been very careful to make sure that I wasn’t seen by people who might recognise me on the way back from the church. My mind had been full of the funeral and what had happened to me. I think that mum and possibly dad were looking out for me as I wasn’t challenged.

It was lunchtime when I returned and I could see through the gates quite a few girls out and about. I took off my red beret and put it in my pocket. With my mac on, I looked just like the others so I just joined the throng and waited for the bell to go.

I was watching some girls playing hopscotch when I felt a tap on my shoulder.

I nearly jumped out of my skin–I was feeling a mite nervous, and turned around.

‘Hello, Lucinda, not seen you around.’

‘Oh hi Titania,’ I said, my heart skipping several beats.

‘Tanya please, so where have you been hiding?’

‘Oh nowhere special.’

‘Funny I haven’t seen you in any of the classes or at meals.’

‘Mmm,’ I said, not knowing what to say.

She looked at me and then noticed my skirt under the mac.

‘Hey, you’re not in uniform.’

‘Erm no. I erm went to that lady’s funeral, you know Sharon Tranter, I had permission from The Mole.’

‘How come you could go then?’

‘Well, I didn’t tell you, but Brian, her son, is a distant cousin that makes her an aunt.’

‘Oh gosh, I am sorry. I won’t pry anymore. I suppose you’ve not been about because you are all upset?’

‘That’s right–’

The bell went then and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Tanya and I went in and I managed to shake her off, telling her that I had to go up to the dorm to get changed.

‘Which dorm–?’

‘–See you later,’ I replied hurriedly before sloping off and leaving her staring after me.

Nice-but-dim Tanya was becoming a nuisance. Now, if I was a hardened criminal, I might have bumped her off, hiding the body in a cellar or something, but Tanya was a nice girl and so was I and nice girls–or even gels–just don’t do that sort of thing. As it was, I managed to avoid any more unwanted people and finally got up to my room with the minimum of fuss and bother.

I ate some more pork pie, an Eccles cake and a glass of milk and that was lunch finished with. I kind of ached for a nice hot meal and the smells from the kitchen occasionally and tragically wafted over in my direction and tortured me a bit. But I was strong and resourceful and managed somehow to stop myself from rushing downstairs and throwing myself on a plate of bangers and mash–just.

I spent the rest of the day trying to avoid thoughts of the funeral and my position by carrying on reading my Chalet book and waiting for the night to come. I was going to see Alicia again and maybe talk to her about what to do with the rest of my life.

I was really looking forward to having a nice girlie chat with my new “chum.”

To Be Continued...

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Please leave comments…thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.